


Spaceman on Earth

by Jackolidus



Category: Original Work
Genre: Crime, Earth, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Murder, Prostitution, Sci-Fi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29064450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackolidus/pseuds/Jackolidus
Summary: This was part of justin and justin but i have abandoned it
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	Spaceman on Earth

It was the bone chilling cold that woke Justin. He seemed to have kicked off his blanket at some point. He tugged it back up over himself and shivered. The blanket wasn’t going to do shit, and he knew that already. 

It was still dark in the little apartment, but Justin could see, through the open blinds, that the sun was on its way up. 

With his head snugly on the pillow and the blanket tucked under his chin, he started to wonder if he’d made the right decision. Shooting himself in the head had seemed like a great idea to him just a few short hours ago. And now he was living some human’s shitty life instead of protecting his mate from their awful fucking captain. Maybe the problem would go away now that Justin was out of the picture. His hackles raised slightly when he remembered that the other Justin was living his life, touching his mate, and that his mate likely thought that Justin hadn’t changed. 

He shivered for a long time, refusing to get up, refusing to look at the little metal device plugged into the wall. He didn’t want to admit that this was any different from his life back home. He hadn’t wanted this at all. He’d wanted to die, to put a stop to everything, to come back as a new, fresh soul, unburdened by the measure of his crimes, the hits out on him. 

He hadn’t meant to become a criminal. It was just that there were no other options. It was piracy or death. After leaving their home after higher education had done its useless thing, he and his mate had been forced to find a way to make it on their own. At first it had been little things, like Justin had donated his blood and let some scientists do a study on his bionic organs. But then his mate had gotten sick, really sick, and they needed money desperately. And stowing away on a ship leaving from the port didn’t seem like such a bad idea all the sudden. But then they were trapped in an indentured servitude, stuck on the ship with the abusive crew of five angry Ralfians, and they’d had to fuck their way to freedom. 

Then there had been the miscellaneous odd jobs for Vein, contract killing, petty theft to grand larceny, arson, that kind of thing, in exchange for a place to stay and hot meals. It had gone against every fiber of Justin’s being, to kill and maim and torture for hire. But he told himself that it was for a greater cause. He had to protect his mate. He had to protect himself. Letting either of the die was a betrayal of the only promise he’d ever made.

Instead of getting up, facing the problems of his new existence, Justin lied to himself. He told himself that the other Justin would be able to take care of his mate. That he’d be protective and possessive and jealous and just crazy enough to do whatever it was going to take to protect the only thing that mattered. Those instincts were hardwired in his biology, and the other Justin was currently using all of that biology. He fought with that idea, because the jealousy and anger over the fact that someone else was touching his mate was also a part of his biology. The biology that he should’ve given to the other Justin. 

As the sun rose, the room got warmer. Justin had to get up. Not only was he starving, a feeling he was not used to, but he was also tired of doing nothing, lying to himself, shivering.

So he got up. He explored the sad little two-room home, making note of the lack of furniture. It seemed like Justin had just lived off of his mattress on the floor, eating there, sleeping there, reading his pathetic stack of books there. 

The bathroom was grimy, but it was clear that it wasn’t Justin’s fault. It seemed that the grout between the tiles had come that way, grey and mildewy. And the bathtub was also grey. It was disgusting. Nothing like the sterile cleanliness of home. Justin wondered if it would be a nice break. A vacation for him. 

He looked down at the street from the only window in the living space. The road was grey and lifeless. A few vehicles passed the building, but they were much slower than at home, like they didn’t really have anywhere to be. He felt a panging loneliness. He was very far from home.


End file.
